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“What is it called?” Once upon a time there was a woodcutter and his wife who had seven children, all boys. The eldest was but ten years old, and the youngest only seven. People wondered that the woodcutter had so many children so near in age, but the fact was, that several of them were twins. He and his wife were very poor, and their seven children were a great burden to them, as not one of them was yet able to earn his livelihood. What troubled them still more was, that the youngest was very delicate, and seldom spoke, which they considered a proof of stupidity rather than of good sense. He was very diminutive, and, when first born, scarcely bigger than one's thumb, and so they called him Little Thumbling. “You’ve got a hunch?” cried Ted. “Out West here we always play hunches. Go to it; you’re probably right. By the way, don’t he go up the river a lot?”.
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Conrad
Sang, in its bloom; Pshaw! What a beastly wind! He could scarcely hold the umbrella, and as for Tellef’s steering, it was downright stupid. Oh, oh! Was the boat going to upset? It was a lively time. The boat flew like an arrow, the waves were high, the wind—really he could not hold the umbrella much longer. My, oh, my! how far out they were now. The boat took in water every minute—whole buckets full. Johnny Blossom’s blouse was sopping wet. “No excuses! It means that you have broken discipline twice, doesn’t it? Left your work and then rode a bucket, which is against all orders. I’ll have to fire that control operator who let you do it.” “Get out of that, you old grandmother!”.
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